


end of infinity

by liesmith



Category: Cow Chop, The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, M/M, celestial james, sad stoner aleks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 19:03:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16290059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liesmith/pseuds/liesmith
Summary: life is just going fine. he's not at all depressed, or anxious, or anything like thatorgreat. what's he supposed to do with a fallen star?





	end of infinity

_We don’t need anything right now. Suptic’s doing some indie shit for this arc. Sorry, baby._  

Oh.

Aleks clenched his phone for a moment before shoving it into his pocket, staring at the line of cereal in front of him at the grocery store. Of course the one day he scrounges up all his energy to go feed himself something that isn’t Taco Bell or Chick-fil-a or something and Brett decides right now, right fucking now, is the time to text him that Aleks, yet again, is being fucking snubbed. Not that Brett or Suptic or whoever owes him a job, but it kind of sucks that twice now he’s being looked over.

Guess shitty indie just goes with Egyptian Gods.

Aleks looks at the brightly colored boxes, proclaiming flavors and varying degrees of grain and gluten free. His eyes roam before he just reaches out, grabbing a box of Oops! All Berries, looking pissed off at the captain as he shoves it into his tiny cart. It looks just as sad next to a case of Kickstarter and a bag of puffy Cheetos, shaped like bones for the upcoming season.

Fuck.

Aleks pushed his cart down the next aisle, staring at the various boxed meals. He should stock up on this, while his paycheck from streaming is still pretty cushy, but he just turns around and heads to self-checkout. It’s not Brett’s fault, this he repeats to himself in his head, but he’s still pissed. Mostly at himself, though. If he didn’t get into music, maybe he’d be living a cool life like Brett.

Or just be a full-time streamer.

Idiot. Aleks mindlessly swiped his card as he finished bagging two of his three things, tucking the case of energy drinks under his arm. From there comes the longest ride home in existence, but it probably only feels that way because he’s so exhausted. Clammy hands hold tight on the steering wheel as Aleks jerks his car a little too hard into the turn, nearly clipping the stopped car at the lights, and feels almost bad about it. At least his building is in view and at that point, Aleks just doesn’t care anymore about anything else. He all too happily pulls in and parks, tucks his shitty loot from the grocery store under his arms, and climbs the two flights to his apartment.

Barking, which he’ll hear about tomorrow from his neighbor next door, greets him and Aleks can’t help but give a small smile. Thank God for Mishka; even if nobody else gave a shit about him, at least she did. The fluff danced around his legs, barking and jumping up as Aleks shuffled his way to the kitchen, setting his things down on the counter before turning to face her, squatting down and letting Mishka assault him with kisses.

“I know,” Aleks cooed softly, running his fingers through her soft fur, finding his pinky catching on a small knot, “missed you too. Won’t leave you again.”

And yeah, it’s stupid promising his dog that, of course he’s going to leave again for something, but that wasn’t the point. Aleks kissed her snout, ruffling her fur before getting back up and leaning against the counter, arms spread out as he watched Mishka sit in front of him, staring with her tongue out.

“What are we going to do, huh? Brett’s not giving us any money,” He mumbled quietly, watching Mishka cock her head, as if she was genuinely listening, “I guess it’s another late night.”

* * *

Aleks stared at the clock on his desktop, the tiny white numbers blurring together in his vision. It either said 5 am, or 6 am, or… any number that was way past what he wanted to be awake for. He lost his squad in Fortnite bit by bit until it was just him, going through the motions brainlessly as he stared blankly. Chat never stopped, though, but as Aleks watched himself die for the tenth time in the past thirty minutes, he scrubbed his hands over his face and started his sign off spiel. And yeah, that’s always when the money flooded in, people wanting him to keep going, but he gave his webcam a small wave as he shut everything down for the night.

He melted into his chair, arms dangling over the rests as he looked up towards his ceiling, the soft hues of morning starting to filter through his curtains and settle into the nooks and crannies. Mishka couldn’t even appreciate it, long gone to his bedroom to enjoy quiet before the day started. Aleks unpeeled himself from his chair and trudged to his room himself, kicking his sweats off first and then depositing his shirt besides them on the floor as he climbed into bed, sinking into the soft mattress. Besides him, weight distributed itself into a neat Mishka pile, settled into the space against his tummy.

* * *

It doesn’t last. As soon as Aleks feels the bliss of sleep he’s pulled out of it by Mishka, starting to whine and dig at his bedroom door. In his tired haze, Aleks stumbled to his door and wondered if he could teach Mishka how to take care of herself, so he could just sleep and not worry about her. She follows him to the back sliding door and Aleks unlocks it, cracking it enough for Mishka to get in and out. His tired mind tells him to feed her too, and so he does, and then Aleks is gone back to his bedroom.

When he comes back too with Mishka half on his back, it has to be well into the afternoon. Aleks just blinks a couple of times, trying to clear his vision of little dots and blurriness. A hand runs under his pillow a couple of times before he finds his phone, pulling the screen up and staring at it. There’s emails, tweets, and a couple of texts from Brett postmarked from last night.

_Suptic says he’ll listen to your new stuff still if you send it over._

_Quit fucking streaming and send your shit over._

_Aleks **fucking** sandr._ 

Brett stopped around two am trying to contact him which is surprising since he was such an old fucking man. Despite the possibility of getting paid, Aleks just wants to roll over and go back to sleep, exhausted by the three texts. Instead, he just wiggles Mishka off of him and gets up, staring at the cracked screen. Aleks just quietly sends Brett the link to his new demos and then, after some consideration, drags himself out of bed to the bathroom. His bladder becomes a pretty pressing issue and, honestly, he could use a shower. It’s been a couple of days of sitting around doing the bare minimum (and not even that, if he was being honest) and he could use it.

When he gets out, Mishka’s sitting at the bathroom door, tail wagging. Aleks steps over her, fist balled at his waist holding his towel up. “You’ve got to not do that,” He mumbled, digging with one hand in his drawers, “it’s creepy. You’re like, ten in dog years.”

Mishka barks in response to his tone, jumping up on the back of his legs. Aleks swats at her briefly, though there’s no annoyance in it. She’s a good girl. He tugs on a pair of soft, bunny themed briefs and then a pair of sweats again, leaving his towel on the floor as he follows Mishka out the bedroom. The slight breeze in his apartment reminds him that he left the back door open and for a moment, Aleks goes to close it, but Mishka wiggles her fat ass out first. Ah, well. That’s fine.

His mind steers him towards the kitchen and the groceries are still sitting untouched on the counter. Right. He wiggles the cereal out of the bag and, just as fate would have it, is disappointed as he stares at his fridge. No milk. Aleks just sighs and takes the box with him to the living room, holding it under his arm like a clipboard as he glances around. It’s getting pretty late now, soft purples and pinks settling over his furniture. It’s kind of nice, and even though it’s nowhere near quiet, especially with the back door open, Aleks can appreciate it for what it is.

He sets the box of cereal onto his couch, heading back to his bedroom. Aleks pulls on a tanktop and then a sweatshirt, adjusting the collar so it sits comfortably, and then digs through his nightstand. If he’s not lying to himself, there’s a joint in here, and… ah-ha. There we go. He tucks the joitn behind his ear and slides on a pair of sunglasses, going back to the living room. Whistling brings Mishka back in and Aleks closes his back sliding door, locking it and ruffling her head, and here he goes, breaking his promise to his dog, but...

“Be back, baby.”

* * *

The drive out to Death Valley isn’t as bad as it could have been. Aleks takes his time weaving down side streets and through backlines, enjoying the soft summer breeze with his windows down. If Brett wasn’t such an asshole, he would have invited him, but Brett’s an asshole, nothing more, nothing less. He just drives out to his favorite spot and parks, cutting the engine in his Camaro. Aleks climbs out and settles onto the hood, stretching out as he takes the joint from behind his ears and lights it, inhaling deeply. It bites him in the ass and he coughs just a little, but it doesn’t stop him from taking another drag in his coughing fit.

Even out here it’s not quiet but Aleks doesn’t mind as he drifts further and further off with each drag, tucking an arm under his head and enjoying himself for now. The soft pinks and purples from earlier have dissolved into the black of night and if Aleks squinted, he could make out some of the stars. He’s not too deep in the desert and the city has enough reach to light up the sky still. Kind of a bummer, but now he’s under the influence, so Aleks doesn’t really feel like climbing back in and driving further in and crashing his car in a sand dune or some shit.

If those even exist out here.

He manages to zone out after a bit though, clumsily relighting the joint here and there before he gives up. He feels good, which is all that matters, the buzz doing its job to numb the world out.

And.

Something is screaming across the sky, bright and burning even despite the city’s reach. Aleks blinks a couple of times and then rubs his eyes, squinting up at the black. Was it real? Shooting stars happened maybe back home, in Massachusetts, but not here in California. Not really like this.

But it’s still there. It might just be him, but the object is getting closer and closer, and Aleks watches the trajectory of it. It seems almost… specific, as if the shooting star wants someone to see it. The object curves and arcs, and for a second, it almost looks like it’s going to hit him, but Aleks watches it crash a couple miles off. There’s no sound, or maybe he’s gone deaf from the impact already. The last option, the bit of sobriety left in him, says

Idiot, you’re having a bad trip.

But Aleks climbs into his car and starts the engine and he’s off, driving to roughly the area he figures this thing landed. If it’s a shooting star, maybe he could… discover something. Get a lot of money. Or he could find a a Transformer. That would also get him a lot of money, to be fair, and a sweet robot friend.

Aleks rolls the car to a halt and climbs out as he stares at what’s in front of him, a building ache starting to climb up into his skull. The air is hot and heavy and making it harder for him to breathe, eyes squinting as he tries to make sense of it all. The shooting star, if he can call it that, has made no impact on the ground beneath it. No crater and no danger zone and no weird space fire, despite the immense heat rolling off of the object. Every time Aleks tries to focus on the object his eyes get blurry and he has to just be this high. His dealer laced his weed with something else and now Aleks is going to die out here, unable to breathe and see, and that fucking idiot will get away scot-free.

That gets him to take a step forward, and as he does, Aleks feels sluggish as he passes through something clear. He’d rather die finding a cool alien then some bad weed, at least. But here, past this barrier, Aleks’ vision is fine. He can breath. And it’s… god damn blinding, in here, like a floodlight turned up to ten or something. But now he can see what’s crashed, and...

Curled up on the desert sand is a person. They seem to be the reason for the light and when Aleks can squint enough to focus better, he notices why there was no impact.

They’re floating.

Aleks pauses for a moment, just staring at this body, and he fumbles to pull his phone out. The screen is black and when he goes to turn it on, it just beeps uselessly at him, a noise he’s never heard it do. Kinda like a sad robot. Aleks thinks for a moment before he steps out of the weird bubble, back into the heavy air, and finds his phone functioning again. Okay.

Maybe he did find a Transformer. They could do that shit, right?

Instead.h e dials Brett’s number by heart and sits his phone between his shoulder and ear, and when Brett picks up, Aleks cuts him off before he can even start bitching about demos and how shitty of a person Aleks is.

“Dude, I need you to come find me immediately. I found something.”


End file.
